


Minako!!! on Stage

by Prinzenhasserin



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ballet, Crack, Extra Treat, F/F, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prinzenhasserin/pseuds/Prinzenhasserin
Summary: Minako and Yuuri are really quite similar, considering both of them fell in love with an older, more famous Russian...





	Minako!!! on Stage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Teuthida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teuthida/gifts).



> Dear Teuthida! This turned out a bit less shippy than I intended, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

"I can’t believe how old she is, and still she gets preference as principal dancer," Minako heard her training partner, Vasilisa Melentyeva, complain in Russian. They were competing for the same part, an advance within the company for a soloist part. It would be her partner’s first solo part in any production, whereas Minako had a few under her belt already, but it was still very hyperbolic to call her old, or indeed, a regular prima ballerina. In the Bolshoi theatre, Minako was middling at best, though she had been the sole star at more minor ballet corps before.

Minako rolled her eyes; a personal attack to her age was not all that hurtful, especially since they were only 5 years apart, and her knee hadn’t had to heal from a fall like Vasya’s. "Not that old," she defended herself. It was half-hearted at best, since she didn’t feel like the insult had hurt her at all. Vasya was only lashing out against the uncertainty of rearranging an entire corps on the whims of Lady Lilia Baranovskaya, Iron Empress of the Bolshoi theatre.

The director of the Bolshoi should have been able to stand up to her, but Lilia was an intimidating figure, and her close friendship with the party elite’s meant that she was untouchable.

"Oh dear, not you," Vasya said. "The Baba Yaga herself." She pointed towards the centre of the room, where the figure of Lilia Baranovskaya stood. She was tall and poised, full of an energy that could draw every eye in the room.

"Shh," another soloist trying for an audition tried quieting her down. "What if she hears you?"

At just that moment, Lilia Baranovskaya turned around. Her eyes were bright, her bearing relaxed, and yet her eyebrow, raised in a question, seemed to ask Minako if she ever thought they wouldn’t be caught gossiping. The intimidating photograph hanging on the front entrance of the Bolshoi, captured just that look. Minako’s breath caught. Madame Baranovskaya wasn’t conventionally pretty, but she was the most beautiful danseur Minako had ever seen.  

That is, Minako admired her bodily strength and compassion, and that was why the room of her teenaged self had been plastered with pictures and posters of her most famous roles. Her grace and agility were what Minako admired, and if she also loved looking at her profile (and her front, and her in shiny white tutus, or grimy practise leotards) then well, there were worse idols to have.

"I have decided," she said quite clearly into the room. The hustle and bustle stopped. Centered in the middle, like a queen holding court, she dismissed the question from the casting director.

"Her," she said, and pointed towards Minako. "Let me see her perform the rendition."

"She did hear us," Vasya said behind her, much more quiet than before.

"Clear the room."

And as she said it, so it was done—the room soon held only the four people who would decide on Minako’s future engagements.

"Well?" Lilia asked her. "What are you waiting for, a special invitation? I assume you studied the part, now dance. You’ll have to do without the music, the portable recorder fell down the stairs."

Minako fell into first position, as natural as breathing, and tried to dismiss the stares of her audience. She exhaled deliberate and slow, centred herself, and then danced her heart out. Slowly at first, deliberately leaning into the gestures, stretching her legs to the fullest—she looked up, right into Lilia’s eyes. They were bright and brilliant, and kept her going through the high jump. She turned around on a dime, and could feel Lilia’s gaze on her, like a heavy weight expecting her to exceed expectations. When she landed, on pointe, swept down into a bow, one member of her impromptu audience burst into applause. Lilia’s face, however, was impenetrable.

"Adequate," she finally condescended to say.

Minako couldn’t help it—affirmation by the Queen of Ballet herself was more than she had ever hoped; she relaxed, her smile stretching her face almost more than her muscles had been from the exertion.

Lilia studied her from top to bottom, then she said to the man at her side that Minako only now recognised as the main stage director, "Get her my practise rooms on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday, and schedule her for all the usual soloist training, she needs more work for a consistent performance."

"Congrats," the remaining man told her. "We are considering to move you up to a more permanent position. Would you like to contact your agent?"

"Of course."

Still in a stupor, Minako left the room and collected her belongings in the locker room, changing out of her sweat-dripping leotard, and carefully preserving her shoes. They looked okay as of right now, but from experience they wouldn’t last performing daily much longer.

"So I hear congratulations are in order," Vasya said from behind her. Minako was half-naked, because of course that’s when Vasya would look her up, and crossed her arms before her naked torso. Vasya blatantly kept staring, and under different circumstances would have continued teasing her about her body issues. Minako was just very gay, and this sense of appraisal turned her on, but she wouldn’t be shouting that from the rooftops. "She would never have noticed you without my help," Vasya continued, and came even closer.

Minako shifted backwards. "Yes, thank you for the opportunity," Minako said, and bowed. It helped create a distance between them that Minako sorely missed.

Vasya began laughing—it wasn’t her trained laughter, the one where she tipped back her head and swished her hair to the side to attract attention to her long and slender neck, but an instinctual reaction. "Darling," she said when she had herself back under control, "I understand entirely—friendship only gets you so far when you want to advance. You’d have been a fool not to use every opportunity afforded to you, as long as you keep in mind that I helped you get there."

Minako stared at her blankly. Sure, Vasya had been at the company for a few more months than her, but Minako was a solidly trained ballerina already. Maybe not in the Valashnikov style, but unlike Vasya, she had danced principal roles before. It was ridiculous of her to assume it was her blunder that brought Madame Baranovskaya’s attention on Minako. And yet.

"Excuse me," the voice of the so-called Baba Yaga herself interrupted. It sounded as if she didn’t want to be excused at all. "I couldn’t help but overhear. I’d just like you to know that I don’t play games with the minds of my danseurs." She scrutinised Vasya in a way that was familiar, and yet unlike the performance earlier, this one felt cold. "I don’t feel it necessary to sort the peas from the ash, because the ash will scatter as soon as the harsh wind blows upon them. Miss Okukawa may not have the standard looks of the Bolshoi, but neither had I when I began dancing. You’d do better to concentrate on your own pliés instead of micromanaging your —friend."

Then, Lilia Baranovskaya looked at her, and it was like she could see through to her every childhood memory, as if she knew exactly how many pictures and posters Minako had hung up in her room with her figure on them. "You did very well," the fearsome first ballerina of the Bolshoi told her. 

Minako felt faint; couldn't really react in any manner that was appropriate, but she wanted to run at her, and have her catch her, only to twirl her around in circles. When she had started ballet, acknowledgement by the prima ballerina of the Bolshoi seemed like a pipe dream, like an intangible fantasy that could never become reality. And now it had. 

And like a true repressed Japanese person, when confronted with her deepest desire, she turned around and ran away to the bathroom to hyperventilate above the sink. She couldn't let her know her feelings-- what if she thought her annoying! What if she didn't actually mean the compliment, and only used it as a means to put Vasya down? She'd be ridiculed, laughed out of the industry. She should retire just now, while the going was good and she wouldn't be disappointing a myriad of fans by fucking up both ballet and dancing forever.

When she came back out of the bathroom, both Vasya and Lilia had cleared out the dressing room, and Minako could change herself out of the grimy training leotard that looked more grey than the original pale pink after the strenuous during the past few months. She should probably think about getting a new one soon, but her ballerinas were still holding together so she would wait until they fell apart. It wouldn't be long; the training of a soloist was yet another thing that would keep her training for hours. She tried to erase all memories of Lilia telling her that she was good at ballet out of her mind to focus on getting enough sleep for her gruelling schedule, but some thoughts slipped through nevertheless. 

Before going to her home, a one-room apartment just inside the main ticket circle, decorated with plenty of posters picturing Lilia Baranovskaya, (she had hung the first over the bald spot of cement grey plaster her landlord wasn't ever going to fix, and then couldn't help but fall into old habits,) she was going to the regular pub night of the ballet corps.  She didn't know how to feel about her unexpected windfall, and to be honest, thought it would turn out to be nothing tomorrow, but the night outside would do her good-- she could let out the pressure, and if she drank enough, perhaps she might even forget Vasya being passive-aggressive at her.

The pub was full, as usual, and she recognised quite a few people from the academy. The vodka shots were quite cheap and if you threw them back fast enough, you wouldn't be able to taste them. "Woah, Minako!" Vasya came over, and slapped her back. "Leave some for the rest for us." She'd obviously forgiven her for stealing the opportunity to impress Lilia Baranovskaya from her.

In reply, Minako threw down the next shot. It wasn't as disgusting anymore: the alcohol was working.

 

The next day, she arrived bright and early at the academy. She was there earlier than most other students, because of the drinking last night, and then she also hadn't found anything else to do in Moscow, and her Russian skills were still rather deplorable. She got by on her mixture of Japanese, French and hands and feet, though it hadn't netted her a wise social circle--she didn't meet anyone who wasn't also a dancer.

The hallway to her favourite studio was empty. She relished the calm and quiet of the entire building; soon enough it would be filled with the usual bustle of dancers, students, and teachers that usually attended the Dance Academy during the day. She nodded at the few dancers that crossed her way--her usual studio wasn't marked occupied by anyone else, and so she wouldn't need to look for another studio. The door was stuck a bit, and it was out of the way of both the bathroom and the cafeteria, so it was usually empty, and not a lot of students waited on the space, so she could use it for longer than she signed in for.

Distractedly, she opened the door and entered, and she was already halfway through the room, before she noticed Lilia Baranovskaya doing splits at the barré. She dropped her bag with equipment and stared.

Madame Baranovskaya was wearing a leotard, sure, but it seemed more like it was there to accentuate her figure than to hide it. Somehow, the thin material was sheer and almost translucent. Minako could see every curve of her body, and while she was generally very used to the lack of shyness from any of her fellow dancers, having Lilia Baranovskaya in front of herself like that, was a shock to her system.

"Um," she said, and tried to not let on to how mesmerised she was by the dip of her bellybutton, or the sweep of her breasts. She couldn't pretend a purely aesthetic admiration at the best of times. Minako swallowed.

"Hello Minako!" Lilia turned around so that her breasts--already plenty of perky--were pushed out even further. Minako couldn't help but stare at the objects of fascination for much of her youth. Neither could she quite contain her utter bafflement at this occurrence. "Starting today, I'm going to be your coach. You will dance the Giselle on stage, and if it's the last thing I do."


End file.
